Chapter 14

Draco didn't make a move to leave the room the next morning either. It started pretty much the same as the last one. He read the paper and some letters at his desk while she ate breakfast in the bed.

Around mid-morning, with a fizz, Lucius broke whatever charm Draco had placed on the room and entered the room. He noted Hermione sitting in the bed, while she tucked the duvet in a bit tighter around her naked body. She wasn't embarrassed, but neither was she detached as she was a while ago when situations like this were just one insignificant moment after the last insignificant moment.

"You are neglecting your duties," he stated to Draco, who was sitting back in his desk chair. Not happy about the intrusion.

"I don't care about pointless fucking duties."

Lucius surveyed the room again, his eyes yet again settling on Hermione in the bed. Hermione knew that this was a good time to find something interesting on the floorboards to watch intently.

"The Dark Lord cares deeply about your duties," Lucius said coldly. "He is starting to notice your absence."

Draco didn't say anything.

"He will ensure that you are not neglectful if you do not take care," Lucius continued. "What I am saying is that if you wish to keep her, you need to do what is required of you or he will take her."

Hermione felt a chill running up her spine. She couldn't imagine anything worse than being taken away by Lord Voldemort. It would assuredly end in pain and death for her. She had heard the purebloods talking about his form of entertainment with persons deemed slave-class.

"Now get dressed. We are leaving," Lucius said before turning and walking out.

Draco swore and walked over towards his wardrobe. He dressed and left without saying a word.

When he'd gone, Hermione dressed as well. She still couldn't leave the room, so she stayed seated in one of the chairs. Thankful for the moment that she was not being tortured to death, because she had the feeling that it was just a matter of time.

A lunch tray was delivered a while later. The food was steaming hot and delicious. She had taken care not to eat too much at breakfast in case she would have to keep eating all day. After lunch she stared out the window for a while. She didn't care what he said, but she would have to make an effort to be less detached afterwards, otherwise he would know.

Mrs. Malfoy entered the room a short time later.

"Come," she said and turned to leave.

Hermione followed, realising that they were probably sending her away again. Probably somewhere far away. Hermione wondered whether she should ask them to remove her bracelet. She would just slip away and he would never find her.

When she got downstairs, Professor Snape was waiting and they all continued downstairs towards the kitchen, which was odd.

"Sit," he told her as they reached the ancient wooden table. He pulled out a wrapped syringe and a muggle medicine bottle.

"Is that it?" Mrs. Malfoy asked. Snape nodded.

Hermione was confused. She quickly searched for a label on the bottle.

Medroxyprogesterone acetate, it read. Progesterone. That must be some kind of contraceptive. They were going to inject her with a contraceptive. A muggle contraceptive. Why in the world? She had been charmed up to the eyeballs in contraceptive spells over the last three years.

Professor Snape and Mrs. Malfoy stared at the objects for a bit before Snape broke the paper/plastic wrapper around the syringe.

"How do you get the potion in?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.

Professor Snape pulled the lever back and placed the syringe on the table. Hermione watched the needle. Oh god, she thought, they were going to give her an infection.

"It said 0.2 millilitres," Mrs. Malfoy said. "That must be these small lines here, see it says one millilitre on this big line here."

Professor Snape bent over to survey the lines, then pulled out his wand and transferred some of the liquid into the syringe.

"That should be sufficient."

Hermione watched the syringe. It was half full of liquid. Why give her a muggle contraceptive? There are certain strong magics that can destroy contraceptive charms, but they were rare and not typically in average households.

"Where do we stick it in?" Mrs. Malfoy conferred with the Professor.

"I suspect this one goes in muscle. Some go directly into the bloodstream, I understand. Maybe the arm," he said as he picked up the needle and moved it towards Hermione's arm.

"You have to remove the air," Hermione said. "Things will go really badly for me if you don't."

Professor Snape stared at her for a bit, obviously not sure what to do.

"Would you like me to do it?" Hermione asked.

He thought for a moment and then relented. Hermione took the syringe, careful not to touch anything with the needle. Maybe they believed that someone would purposefully remove the charms, which can happen. There was no one who knew how to remove a muggle contraceptive. It probably could be done, she mused, but the magical community just didn't have the chemistry knowledge to do it. But why would anyone remove her charms anyway? Unless they thought Draco would remove the charms, but that was ridiculous. Why would they even think that?

Hermione turned the needle upside down and pushed out the air before sticking it in her leg. She hated being forced to medicate herself, but on the other hand, she really didn't want to get pregnant. Not that she really believed that was an issue, but it wouldn't do any harm.

"You can go," Professor Snape said to her after she put the syringe back on the table.

Hermione removed herself from the kitchen as swiftly as she could. She took the opportunity to go out in the garden. That little encounter had been so far away from her expectations, she didn't know what to make of it. She guessed they weren't sending her away after all. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or not. She wasn't happy, but maybe better the devil you know.

Maybe they were all just mad, she thought while sitting down on a cold wet bench. She had some serious doubts about Draco's sanity at times. Maybe they were all slightly unhinged. Or maybe they just all had serious concerns about Draco's sanity.

She stayed outside as long as her body would let her, only going back inside when her fingers had truly turned blue. The sun was starting its descent as she said her goodbye to the garden and returned to Draco's room.

He was there when she returned, sitting in one of the large chairs cradling his head in his hands.

"Where have you been?" he asked. She could tell he was tired and grumpy. He had served himself a large glass of whiskey.

"I went for a walk outside," Hermione said.

"Come here," he ordered and she obeyed.

He pulled her into his lap and kept her there for a while.

"You're cold." He pulled Hermione's shoulder into leaning on him.

"It is cold outside."

"Why were you cold? Didn't you have a jacket?"

"I forgot it."

"You're not to go outside without a jacket," he said and brushed her hair with his fingers.

He slowly leant his head up to kiss her. She let him, but didn't respond. After a few seconds he abandoned the kiss and sighed.

"You should go take your bath. It should warm you up," he said and slapped her lightly on the backside to get her to stand up.

Hermione went into the bathroom to run the bath. When ready, she undressed and got into the warm water. The heat burned her cold skin for a while as she got in. She let her mind drift a little in the warm water but was eventually disturbed by Draco. He sat down on the bottom edge of the tub.

Hermione wondered about him. Wondered about what his mother was thinking about him. She didn't really know him that well. She knew his immediate likes and dislikes, but something was obviously making his mother concerned.

"I brought you a present," he said and leaned back on the wall. He pulled a little box out of his pocket and reached it out towards her.

She took the little box reluctantly and studied it. It was a small ornate box made of silver. It was beautiful and when she opened it, it started playing music. A music box. It was exquisite, but Hermione wondered where it came from. Was this some box he had picked up from some dead woman's dresser. She didn't want to think about where he had picked it up. Was it a gift from some lover before he stole it.

"I don't want it," she said and handed it back.

His eyes seemed to darken as she tried to get him to take it back.

"It's a gift and you're keeping it," he said before getting up and walking off. He left the room completely.

When Hermione got out and got dressed, there was a dinner tray waiting for her. She felt guilty being served dinner when the creatures downstairs were waiting for food. Waiting for whatever she left on the plate. Hermione ate as little as she could.

Draco returned about an hour and a half later. She could smell Port and cigars on him as he passed her to poured himself another whiskey.

"Mother wants you to serve dinner again," he said quietly.

"I am a servant. It is what I do."

"Then ask me to prevent it and I will free you from the duty," he said raising his voice.

"Why?" she asked. "How about you free me from this," she said holding up her bracelet. "I will literally beg you on my knees."

"Fine. Serve like the slave you are," he said and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He remained in there for an hour. When he got out, he made Hermione get into bed with him. He was warm from the bath he had. He slowly freed her from the dress before starting to kiss her skin again, returning to her mouth every once in a while. He took his time to build up the sensation in her body again, again making her breath catch in the throat as he administered this new brand of torture on her most sensitive bits. But she wouldn't relent to the sensation and he could not get beyond that limit her mind had control over. Her body was aching for release, but she wouldn't go there.

He didn't make a secret of how much he loved the moisture that pooled in her body. It seemed to disturb his control and speed up his finish.

Again, Hermione was left with an ache in her body.

"I will have all of you," he whispered in her ear before turning off the lights with his wand.

Over my dead body, Hermione thought to herself.